Short Update
There will be updates etc to the site soon, but for now if you want to grab the remastered episodes as they rerelease head over to http://www.prefacesandasides.com.
Episodes 1 and 2 are out (and I'll be adjusting the links here soon.)
-Will
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Updates
Moving everything to Prefaces and Asides and I'll be slowly getting fresh links to the original episodes as I get them up on the new feed. This site will be up for the time being, but all updates are going to be there.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Down the Drain
by Aaron Sailors
Submitted for your enjoyment, another self contained piece of fiction that is my first solo contribution to our site. This story earned me 1st place in a contest for horror writing last year, and I have been promising people an audio version ever since. I’d like to thank Dennis Kuhn for providing me with the background music (I’m hoping to feature more of his music in the future), and to Will Ross for switching roles with me and acting as my editor.
I hope you enjoy it, and it makes your flesh crawl… just a little.
Aaron Sailors
Submitted for your enjoyment, another self contained piece of fiction that is my first solo contribution to our site. This story earned me 1st place in a contest for horror writing last year, and I have been promising people an audio version ever since. I’d like to thank Dennis Kuhn for providing me with the background music (I’m hoping to feature more of his music in the future), and to Will Ross for switching roles with me and acting as my editor.
I hope you enjoy it, and it makes your flesh crawl… just a little.
Aaron Sailors
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Patience and Verity: Episode 1
Two intergalactic troublemakers, Patience, a washed up prize fighter and Verity, his ex/current bodyguard do what they can to keep their head above water in a future filled with booze, aliens, violence and snark.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Hath No Fury
“So... you’re Jasper, but you’re also Red Ryder?” Demitri Decker asked. He and Jasper/Red Ryder sat on a rotting log, eating cold beans out of the can. The sun was high, and Demitri was exhausted and sweating. He hadn’t slept in two days, partially due to the surgery on his destroyed eye, and partially because he didn’t trust Jasper.
It turned out he was right. Anyone who traveled with a Red Ryder wagon filled with murder implements probably wasn’t the best company.
“It’s not my fault,” Jasper said. “At night she just takes over. She’s not bad though.”
“She took my eye out,” Decker said dryly.
“She didn’t know you. You’re a good person.”
“You don’t know me. You shouldn’t be so trusting. That explains the wagon full of weapons.” Jasper nodded. Decker knew he’d just picked up a liability, but Jasper was so innocent. It wouldn’t be right to abandon her. He’d have to head back to Kansas City and drop her off. It wasn’t so bad, he could use the gig pay. And Big Bad had a job for him there.
“I’ll get you some place safe,” Demitri said. “Get you squared away.”
“I want to follow you forever,” Jasper said seriously.
“Trust me. You don’t want to see the things I have to do up close.” Jasper frowns. “The world ain’t so nice anymore.” Fenris wandered back in from his patrol and laid at Jasper’s feet. She scratched him behind his dead ear.
“Why does your dog have two tails?” Jasper asked.
“He’s a wolfhound,” Decker corrected. “I figured if one tail to balance was good, two was better.”
“Does it work?”
“Nah, but it looks cool. The rest of the tinkering I did worked a lot better.” Jasper frowned.
“Does it hurt him?” Fenris rolled over and let her scratch his belly.
“Yes,” Demitri said. “Some. It hurts when I do it to myself too.”
“I’m sorry about your eye,” Jasper said. She sounded like she meant it.
“Not your fault. Listen, I’m going to get some shut eye while you’re still... you. Wake me up when the sun starts to go down.” Decker rolled his soft guitar case into a makeshift pillow and laid on the ground. He listened for warnings from Big Bad, but heard nothing. He drifted off to sleep.
He stood on a stage. He played, the crowd wild. He felt the narcissism, and pushed it down. That was the hardest part for him. His pride. The door burst open, and Big Bad walked slowly towards him. Demitri continued to strum, but realized his guitar had no strings. He’d cut them all. He set the guitar down. The crowd faded away.
“You didn’t listen to me,” Big Bad said. Decker smiled. He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t capable. “You cheated me.”
“I didn’t cheat anyone. Nobody asked me if I could feel emotions. You set the terms and I took them.”
“You’ll learn.” Big Bad said. Decker felt the hate inside him, Distant, but coming fast. Someone like him. Someone very very bad.
“Going to kill me in my sleep?” He was concerned, but not frightened. He’d never been able to be frightened.
“No,” Big Bad said. “I’m going to help you.” The man was closer now. He was armed. Outside of the dream he heard Fenris growling. But Fenris couldn’t help him. Or Jasper. Jasper!
“Don’t you dare,” Demitri snarled. Big Bad said nothing. The evil came closer. He felt Jasper’s hand on him, violently shaking him, but he couldn’t wake. But through Fenris’ eyes he could see.
A thin, wild haired man came over the hill slowly, carrying a cavalry sword. He held it like a cutlass. His coat was long, and stained, the pockets swollen with gold and jewelry. Demitri’s first, absurd little thought was... pirate. Jasper screamed. Fenris growled but did nothing.
“He told me you’d be here. He left you for me,” the man said, approaching her. There was blood on the cutlass.
They were there, just the way he said they’d be. The man, asleep, the woman, afraid. A reward.
“He told me you’d be here. He left you for me,” Elmore Sterne said. She shied away. He didn’t mean it to come out menacing. He wanted her to like him. He wanted every woman to like him. They just... didn’t.
She was such a tiny little thing, his present. It wasn’t really bad, even when they didn’t want him to. They were out of their minds. Just like the patients in the ward he worked at before he became what he was. It just... didn’t count.
She shook the man next to her so hard her glasses fell off, her eyes filling with watery tears. He sat next to her, putting an arm around her. She pulled away like his arm burned her. That was OK.
“Don’t worry; we’ll take things slow,” he whispered into her ear. “We have all the time in the world.”
“Ryder? Please wake up.”
“I can’t, it’s too early.”
“He’s going to hurt me.”
“I know.”
“Demitri won’t wake up.”
“On purpose.”
“No.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“We have to... he’s-”
“I know. Don’t say it. Stay calm. Fight enough to satisfy him. But not too much.”
“I don’t want to satisfy him.”
“You don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Please wake up.”
“Soon.”
“You made your point,” Decker said, walking up and down the empty stage. Pacing. Trying to wake himself up. Through Fenris’ eyes he saw Jasper being... he didn’t want to see. But when he looked away he felt guilty. Felt he had to see. If he didn’t share her pain he wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t be fair to her to feel that pain alone.
“There is no point,” Big Bad said. “You are having thoughts of equals. She is not your equal.” Decker didn’t reply. He focused on Fen. Tried to push the wolf to attack. Fen whimpered but would not move. His twin tails flicked angrily back and forth. He couldn’t attack one like him on his behalf.
Decker suddenly smiled.
Red Ryder watched, the rage growing inside her. She paced, not knowing that Demitri was pacing in a prison of his own one mind away. The bard was on her mind though. Laying there pretending to sleep. Yet another man to let her down. Every time she tried to trust someone. Every time she fell in- no.
No, no, no. Absolutely not.
Jasper gritted her teeth and laid stone cold still. The bushy haired man bit his lip in frustration. He tried again, but couldn’t manage to arouse himself enough for the violation. He got angry.
“You... you do something, girl!” the man said, and slapped her. Jasper held in tears. She remembered what Ryder said would satisfy him. She was determined not to give it to him. Her cheek burned. She could feel his oily hand-print.
“I’m going to be the worst you ever had,” Jasper said quietly. She spoke in a measured voice. “The very worst.” The man growled and slapped her other cheek. She whimpered a bit. “You’re always going to remember this day as the last time you were unable to rise.” She paused and added “I doubt it’s the first.” He struck her in the mouth with his fist.
“STOP!”
“No.”
“You’re provoking him. He’ll hurt you worse.”
“He’ll hurt me in the manner I choose. Instead of the manner he chooses.”
“Stop. Please.”
“No.”
“I’ll be awake soon. I love you.”
“I love you too Red Ryder.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Fenris tilted his head to the side. He didn’t have a consciousness, exactly. It was more like a series of basic instructions on how to behave. This violated it somehow, but he was being allowed.
The large wolfhound didn’t think; he couldn’t. Still, there was some bond of near affection between himself and his master. Perhaps just a level of comfort. Something felt wrong about this.
Fenris ignored the struggling, bleeding, yet still strong Jasper and the bushy haired man. Normally he was supposed to watch when things happened. Things were happening, and he wanted to watch, but this new command; this unexpected command drew him to service. It was wrong, somehow it was against the spirit of his existence. Yet it was happening.
Fenris put his jaws around Demitri Decker’s neck and began to clamp them down.
“I see,” Big Bad said simply.
“I can use them to hurt ME; can’t I? That’s what we in America like to call a ‘loophole,’” Decker said with a grin. He couldn’t see Big Bad, but he could feel his anger. So many plans, so many calculations. Big Bad wanted things just so.
One little ripple in that plan... for example his death before it was expected, and the whole house of cards could tumble. Butterfly wings to disrupt his perfect ecosystem. His neck grew damp in the dream hall. He felt Fenris’ teeth so far away, yet so close. Killing him next to a defiant Jasper.
“Let me wake up,” Decker said, simply.
Fenris stopped biting down. His master’s breathing changed. The command changed. Fenris released his jaws and turned, running off toward the camp site. He wagged his tails, not from happiness, but from a desperate need to keep balance at the speed he was expected to move.
It was getting easier for the dead wolfhound to see. The sun was going down. Fenris moved quickly.
Jasper’s lips were swollen and bloody. She had a black eye. Her body ached and felt unclean. But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. The hitting continued, and so did her retorts. But he didn’t get the satisfaction he was craving. She slashed at his ego over and over again.
“I can take this pain,” Jasper repeated over and over in her mind, “I can take this pain. I can’t take the other. I can take this pain.”
“Still having trouble?” Jasper said with no particular emotion. Dead. Limp. He hit her again and she let her head do what it would, tongue lolling out. “I’ve been hit harder.”
The man growled at her, but she ignored what he said. She didn’t listen to him. She was busy talking to Ryder.
“I’m very close now.”
“Not close enough.”
“I know.”
“I can feel him. It’s the blood.”
“I tried to-”
“Come quickly.”
“First him. Then Demitri.”
“I trust him.”
“You trust everyone.”
“I trust him more now.”
“What?”
The pipe came down in a tight arc, smashing into the small of the bushy haired man’s back. There was a satisfying crunch. The man groaned in pain.
Demitri raised his lead pipe again as the pirate pulled back from Jasper, pants half way down; an obscene social commentary of nudity and avarice and evil. He didn’t speak, he just grabbed his cutlass. Demitri smashed the pipe into his forearm.
“Not this time,” Demitri growled. “No fighting like men today. You don’t deserve it.” Demitri struck his forearm again, and the sword clattered to the ground, the arm wet, red pulp. “You’re a dog and I ought to put you down like a dog.” The pirate laughed.
“I can’t die,” he snarled, “I cannot die.” He picked up the cutlass with his left and and this time Demitri let him rise, moving slowly backwards with a wicked little smile on his face.
“In a hot minute you’re gonna find that real inconvenient,” Demitri said. Whatever the pirate was going to say was cut short by twin knives bursting out of his chest. Behind him, Red Ryder was awake. And angry. Behind her, Fenris wagged, the handle to a wagonful of her weapons in his jaws.
The burly man looked frightened. Red Ryder licked her lips and whispered into the pirate’s ear.
“Don’t worry; we’ll take things slow.” She twisted the blades, “We have all the time in the world.”
Three days later...
Demitri yawns and rises at the campsite. He stays there. There was a certain amount of catharsis in the first forty-eight hours. Since then, it’s just felt ugly. The man’s been screaming for days. Red Ryder concerns him, but he can’t blame her. He can’t tell her to stop... yet. Not without good reason.
Fenris brings back pieces of firewood and he strums his way through an old Highwaymen tune. When the sun comes up, Jasper returns, exhausted. The first two days she returned covered in blood. Today she doesn’t. He doesn’t have any left to shed.
“It’s finished,” Jasper says seriously.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He means it.
“I know,” she replies. She does too.
They sit for a moment quietly.
“I gotta play the game,” Demitri says. “If I don’t...”
“We should leave,” Jasper says.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Demitri says. He almost means it. “It’s safe to pass through Omaha now. We got business in Kansas City.”
“I want to follow you forever,” Jasper says quietly.
He believes her. And for the first time in his life, he’s genuinely scared.
It turned out he was right. Anyone who traveled with a Red Ryder wagon filled with murder implements probably wasn’t the best company.
“It’s not my fault,” Jasper said. “At night she just takes over. She’s not bad though.”
“She took my eye out,” Decker said dryly.
“She didn’t know you. You’re a good person.”
“You don’t know me. You shouldn’t be so trusting. That explains the wagon full of weapons.” Jasper nodded. Decker knew he’d just picked up a liability, but Jasper was so innocent. It wouldn’t be right to abandon her. He’d have to head back to Kansas City and drop her off. It wasn’t so bad, he could use the gig pay. And Big Bad had a job for him there.
“I’ll get you some place safe,” Demitri said. “Get you squared away.”
“I want to follow you forever,” Jasper said seriously.
“Trust me. You don’t want to see the things I have to do up close.” Jasper frowns. “The world ain’t so nice anymore.” Fenris wandered back in from his patrol and laid at Jasper’s feet. She scratched him behind his dead ear.
“Why does your dog have two tails?” Jasper asked.
“He’s a wolfhound,” Decker corrected. “I figured if one tail to balance was good, two was better.”
“Does it work?”
“Nah, but it looks cool. The rest of the tinkering I did worked a lot better.” Jasper frowned.
“Does it hurt him?” Fenris rolled over and let her scratch his belly.
“Yes,” Demitri said. “Some. It hurts when I do it to myself too.”
“I’m sorry about your eye,” Jasper said. She sounded like she meant it.
“Not your fault. Listen, I’m going to get some shut eye while you’re still... you. Wake me up when the sun starts to go down.” Decker rolled his soft guitar case into a makeshift pillow and laid on the ground. He listened for warnings from Big Bad, but heard nothing. He drifted off to sleep.
He stood on a stage. He played, the crowd wild. He felt the narcissism, and pushed it down. That was the hardest part for him. His pride. The door burst open, and Big Bad walked slowly towards him. Demitri continued to strum, but realized his guitar had no strings. He’d cut them all. He set the guitar down. The crowd faded away.
“You didn’t listen to me,” Big Bad said. Decker smiled. He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t capable. “You cheated me.”
“I didn’t cheat anyone. Nobody asked me if I could feel emotions. You set the terms and I took them.”
“You’ll learn.” Big Bad said. Decker felt the hate inside him, Distant, but coming fast. Someone like him. Someone very very bad.
“Going to kill me in my sleep?” He was concerned, but not frightened. He’d never been able to be frightened.
“No,” Big Bad said. “I’m going to help you.” The man was closer now. He was armed. Outside of the dream he heard Fenris growling. But Fenris couldn’t help him. Or Jasper. Jasper!
“Don’t you dare,” Demitri snarled. Big Bad said nothing. The evil came closer. He felt Jasper’s hand on him, violently shaking him, but he couldn’t wake. But through Fenris’ eyes he could see.
A thin, wild haired man came over the hill slowly, carrying a cavalry sword. He held it like a cutlass. His coat was long, and stained, the pockets swollen with gold and jewelry. Demitri’s first, absurd little thought was... pirate. Jasper screamed. Fenris growled but did nothing.
“He told me you’d be here. He left you for me,” the man said, approaching her. There was blood on the cutlass.
They were there, just the way he said they’d be. The man, asleep, the woman, afraid. A reward.
“He told me you’d be here. He left you for me,” Elmore Sterne said. She shied away. He didn’t mean it to come out menacing. He wanted her to like him. He wanted every woman to like him. They just... didn’t.
She was such a tiny little thing, his present. It wasn’t really bad, even when they didn’t want him to. They were out of their minds. Just like the patients in the ward he worked at before he became what he was. It just... didn’t count.
She shook the man next to her so hard her glasses fell off, her eyes filling with watery tears. He sat next to her, putting an arm around her. She pulled away like his arm burned her. That was OK.
“Don’t worry; we’ll take things slow,” he whispered into her ear. “We have all the time in the world.”
“Ryder? Please wake up.”
“I can’t, it’s too early.”
“He’s going to hurt me.”
“I know.”
“Demitri won’t wake up.”
“On purpose.”
“No.”
“We can’t trust him.”
“We have to... he’s-”
“I know. Don’t say it. Stay calm. Fight enough to satisfy him. But not too much.”
“I don’t want to satisfy him.”
“You don’t want him to hurt you.”
“Please wake up.”
“Soon.”
“You made your point,” Decker said, walking up and down the empty stage. Pacing. Trying to wake himself up. Through Fenris’ eyes he saw Jasper being... he didn’t want to see. But when he looked away he felt guilty. Felt he had to see. If he didn’t share her pain he wouldn’t understand. It wouldn’t be fair to her to feel that pain alone.
“There is no point,” Big Bad said. “You are having thoughts of equals. She is not your equal.” Decker didn’t reply. He focused on Fen. Tried to push the wolf to attack. Fen whimpered but would not move. His twin tails flicked angrily back and forth. He couldn’t attack one like him on his behalf.
Decker suddenly smiled.
Red Ryder watched, the rage growing inside her. She paced, not knowing that Demitri was pacing in a prison of his own one mind away. The bard was on her mind though. Laying there pretending to sleep. Yet another man to let her down. Every time she tried to trust someone. Every time she fell in- no.
No, no, no. Absolutely not.
Jasper gritted her teeth and laid stone cold still. The bushy haired man bit his lip in frustration. He tried again, but couldn’t manage to arouse himself enough for the violation. He got angry.
“You... you do something, girl!” the man said, and slapped her. Jasper held in tears. She remembered what Ryder said would satisfy him. She was determined not to give it to him. Her cheek burned. She could feel his oily hand-print.
“I’m going to be the worst you ever had,” Jasper said quietly. She spoke in a measured voice. “The very worst.” The man growled and slapped her other cheek. She whimpered a bit. “You’re always going to remember this day as the last time you were unable to rise.” She paused and added “I doubt it’s the first.” He struck her in the mouth with his fist.
“STOP!”
“No.”
“You’re provoking him. He’ll hurt you worse.”
“He’ll hurt me in the manner I choose. Instead of the manner he chooses.”
“Stop. Please.”
“No.”
“I’ll be awake soon. I love you.”
“I love you too Red Ryder.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
Fenris tilted his head to the side. He didn’t have a consciousness, exactly. It was more like a series of basic instructions on how to behave. This violated it somehow, but he was being allowed.
The large wolfhound didn’t think; he couldn’t. Still, there was some bond of near affection between himself and his master. Perhaps just a level of comfort. Something felt wrong about this.
Fenris ignored the struggling, bleeding, yet still strong Jasper and the bushy haired man. Normally he was supposed to watch when things happened. Things were happening, and he wanted to watch, but this new command; this unexpected command drew him to service. It was wrong, somehow it was against the spirit of his existence. Yet it was happening.
Fenris put his jaws around Demitri Decker’s neck and began to clamp them down.
“I see,” Big Bad said simply.
“I can use them to hurt ME; can’t I? That’s what we in America like to call a ‘loophole,’” Decker said with a grin. He couldn’t see Big Bad, but he could feel his anger. So many plans, so many calculations. Big Bad wanted things just so.
One little ripple in that plan... for example his death before it was expected, and the whole house of cards could tumble. Butterfly wings to disrupt his perfect ecosystem. His neck grew damp in the dream hall. He felt Fenris’ teeth so far away, yet so close. Killing him next to a defiant Jasper.
“Let me wake up,” Decker said, simply.
Fenris stopped biting down. His master’s breathing changed. The command changed. Fenris released his jaws and turned, running off toward the camp site. He wagged his tails, not from happiness, but from a desperate need to keep balance at the speed he was expected to move.
It was getting easier for the dead wolfhound to see. The sun was going down. Fenris moved quickly.
Jasper’s lips were swollen and bloody. She had a black eye. Her body ached and felt unclean. But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted. The hitting continued, and so did her retorts. But he didn’t get the satisfaction he was craving. She slashed at his ego over and over again.
“I can take this pain,” Jasper repeated over and over in her mind, “I can take this pain. I can’t take the other. I can take this pain.”
“Still having trouble?” Jasper said with no particular emotion. Dead. Limp. He hit her again and she let her head do what it would, tongue lolling out. “I’ve been hit harder.”
The man growled at her, but she ignored what he said. She didn’t listen to him. She was busy talking to Ryder.
“I’m very close now.”
“Not close enough.”
“I know.”
“I can feel him. It’s the blood.”
“I tried to-”
“Come quickly.”
“First him. Then Demitri.”
“I trust him.”
“You trust everyone.”
“I trust him more now.”
“What?”
The pipe came down in a tight arc, smashing into the small of the bushy haired man’s back. There was a satisfying crunch. The man groaned in pain.
Demitri raised his lead pipe again as the pirate pulled back from Jasper, pants half way down; an obscene social commentary of nudity and avarice and evil. He didn’t speak, he just grabbed his cutlass. Demitri smashed the pipe into his forearm.
“Not this time,” Demitri growled. “No fighting like men today. You don’t deserve it.” Demitri struck his forearm again, and the sword clattered to the ground, the arm wet, red pulp. “You’re a dog and I ought to put you down like a dog.” The pirate laughed.
“I can’t die,” he snarled, “I cannot die.” He picked up the cutlass with his left and and this time Demitri let him rise, moving slowly backwards with a wicked little smile on his face.
“In a hot minute you’re gonna find that real inconvenient,” Demitri said. Whatever the pirate was going to say was cut short by twin knives bursting out of his chest. Behind him, Red Ryder was awake. And angry. Behind her, Fenris wagged, the handle to a wagonful of her weapons in his jaws.
The burly man looked frightened. Red Ryder licked her lips and whispered into the pirate’s ear.
“Don’t worry; we’ll take things slow.” She twisted the blades, “We have all the time in the world.”
Three days later...
Demitri yawns and rises at the campsite. He stays there. There was a certain amount of catharsis in the first forty-eight hours. Since then, it’s just felt ugly. The man’s been screaming for days. Red Ryder concerns him, but he can’t blame her. He can’t tell her to stop... yet. Not without good reason.
Fenris brings back pieces of firewood and he strums his way through an old Highwaymen tune. When the sun comes up, Jasper returns, exhausted. The first two days she returned covered in blood. Today she doesn’t. He doesn’t have any left to shed.
“It’s finished,” Jasper says seriously.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He means it.
“I know,” she replies. She does too.
They sit for a moment quietly.
“I gotta play the game,” Demitri says. “If I don’t...”
“We should leave,” Jasper says.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Demitri says. He almost means it. “It’s safe to pass through Omaha now. We got business in Kansas City.”
“I want to follow you forever,” Jasper says quietly.
He believes her. And for the first time in his life, he’s genuinely scared.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Season Three - Rough Draft Sample
Here's a little sneak preview of the setting for Season Three and one of the new characters.
"I am," I replied calmly, "and I don't like people with loaded guns surrounding me. Us."
"Our apologies, but we don't take chances in Kansas City," the man said affibly, though there was an edge of violence. A man who enjoyed his job. "I'm Waylan Rogers, head of Plaza Cartel security. Mr. Gwaine requests the pleasure of an introduction. Gwaine's in charge so that's kind of like an order. You'll need to come with us. Your people are free to go and enjoy themselves in the plaza district. If you need money, stop by the handicapper and drop off some goods, and they'll provide you with chits to spend."
"Chits?" I asked.
"Currency," Waylan said. "You'll find we're relatively civilized here. Tried money but there was too much of it around, so now we use these little poker chips we call chits. You'll find the handicappers near the movie theater in the plaza. Give them whatever supplies you need to and they'll set a value for them and give you currency. Don't worry, they won't rook ya. If they do, they'll eat a bullet. If you need it back, no big deal. You can always buy back anything you need if you're just passing through. If your people need a place to crash try the Marriott. It's decent, and not too expensive and they probably have the best water-filter and genies in town."
"Where are all the..." I hesitated.
"Dead fellas? Most are long gone, at least from the plaza district, and if you have any real trouble theres a check-point every mile into the plaza."
"Doesn't look like you need them, I said." Inside the city there was a large circle where I couldn't feel any dead things at all. It felt like... well... like what I could do. I reached out but felt no one like me. Not for miles and miles.
"Come on, It's really no big deal. Gwaine is serious, but he's a good enough guy."
Alex protested, but I overruled him. If they were planning to kill us, they had plenty of guns to do so. I could take care of myself. Besides, if they wanted to kill me they could have riddled us with machine gun bullets when we arrived. Though I still wonder, would they be enough to kill me now?
No... hubris is terminal. Have to be careful about thinking that way. I may not be able to die but my body can certainly be damaged beyond my ability to repair. Bullets still do serious damage. But what if... no... no more modifications. The muscle I stole from poor Donna's corpse was already too much. Still it's entertaining to wonder what I could be if I didn't have to conform to the standards of the human body.
I was escorted, alone, into a large SUV, and then driven through the burnt-out looted wasteland that was Kansas City. While we drove Waylan pointed things out like the Airport and the Chiefs stadium, but nearly everything was in ruins. Compared to Omaha, Kansas City looked like a war zone.
"Was the loons that did it," Waylan said, chomping the end off a cigar and spitting it out the window. "We had them real bad here until the cartel pulled together and forced a truce. You still find a nest of them too out of their gourds to follow orders, and have to pop them, but all and all we keep things friendly-like."
"Wait, you co-exist with those people?" I asked, speechless.
"People's people and money's money," Waylan said, taking both hands off the wheel for a moment to light his cigar. The SUV swerved dangerously close to the retaining wall before he righted it, steering with his knee until he threw the match out the window. "Hell, the best cat house in town is run by Frank Rose; House Abernathy. Crazier than a shithouse rats but damn if those girls won't do anything you ask em to. It's her or Mallorie's, sort of a town rivalry. Frank and Mother are real smart. Like, business smart, though Mother Mallorie and her girls are smart smart; they'll read you poetry and stuff."
As we drove deeper into the city, the town grew cleaner. People were around, mostly scavengers wearing large backpacks or dragging shopping carts filled with goods, but a few people were just milling about. They seemed to be killing time. Then we turned a corner and I was hit square in the face by civilization.
"Welcome to the Plaza District," Waylan said, smirking at the way my eyes went wide.
"I am," I replied calmly, "and I don't like people with loaded guns surrounding me. Us."
"Our apologies, but we don't take chances in Kansas City," the man said affibly, though there was an edge of violence. A man who enjoyed his job. "I'm Waylan Rogers, head of Plaza Cartel security. Mr. Gwaine requests the pleasure of an introduction. Gwaine's in charge so that's kind of like an order. You'll need to come with us. Your people are free to go and enjoy themselves in the plaza district. If you need money, stop by the handicapper and drop off some goods, and they'll provide you with chits to spend."
"Chits?" I asked.
"Currency," Waylan said. "You'll find we're relatively civilized here. Tried money but there was too much of it around, so now we use these little poker chips we call chits. You'll find the handicappers near the movie theater in the plaza. Give them whatever supplies you need to and they'll set a value for them and give you currency. Don't worry, they won't rook ya. If they do, they'll eat a bullet. If you need it back, no big deal. You can always buy back anything you need if you're just passing through. If your people need a place to crash try the Marriott. It's decent, and not too expensive and they probably have the best water-filter and genies in town."
"Where are all the..." I hesitated.
"Dead fellas? Most are long gone, at least from the plaza district, and if you have any real trouble theres a check-point every mile into the plaza."
"Doesn't look like you need them, I said." Inside the city there was a large circle where I couldn't feel any dead things at all. It felt like... well... like what I could do. I reached out but felt no one like me. Not for miles and miles.
"Come on, It's really no big deal. Gwaine is serious, but he's a good enough guy."
Alex protested, but I overruled him. If they were planning to kill us, they had plenty of guns to do so. I could take care of myself. Besides, if they wanted to kill me they could have riddled us with machine gun bullets when we arrived. Though I still wonder, would they be enough to kill me now?
No... hubris is terminal. Have to be careful about thinking that way. I may not be able to die but my body can certainly be damaged beyond my ability to repair. Bullets still do serious damage. But what if... no... no more modifications. The muscle I stole from poor Donna's corpse was already too much. Still it's entertaining to wonder what I could be if I didn't have to conform to the standards of the human body.
I was escorted, alone, into a large SUV, and then driven through the burnt-out looted wasteland that was Kansas City. While we drove Waylan pointed things out like the Airport and the Chiefs stadium, but nearly everything was in ruins. Compared to Omaha, Kansas City looked like a war zone.
"Was the loons that did it," Waylan said, chomping the end off a cigar and spitting it out the window. "We had them real bad here until the cartel pulled together and forced a truce. You still find a nest of them too out of their gourds to follow orders, and have to pop them, but all and all we keep things friendly-like."
"Wait, you co-exist with those people?" I asked, speechless.
"People's people and money's money," Waylan said, taking both hands off the wheel for a moment to light his cigar. The SUV swerved dangerously close to the retaining wall before he righted it, steering with his knee until he threw the match out the window. "Hell, the best cat house in town is run by Frank Rose; House Abernathy. Crazier than a shithouse rats but damn if those girls won't do anything you ask em to. It's her or Mallorie's, sort of a town rivalry. Frank and Mother are real smart. Like, business smart, though Mother Mallorie and her girls are smart smart; they'll read you poetry and stuff."
As we drove deeper into the city, the town grew cleaner. People were around, mostly scavengers wearing large backpacks or dragging shopping carts filled with goods, but a few people were just milling about. They seemed to be killing time. Then we turned a corner and I was hit square in the face by civilization.
"Welcome to the Plaza District," Waylan said, smirking at the way my eyes went wide.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Sebastian of the Fay
A small fairy slowly loses her boy.
Voiced by Hope Clary, Daphne Abernathy, Julie Hoverson and Will Ross
Direct Download: http://media.libsyn.com/media/oneeighteen/sebastianofthefay.mp3
As I said in the news, if you want to read our new comic, click the link at the top, and if you want to be on the show, click the... well.. other link at the top. And if you just want to listen to some more good stories, you want Merciless Storytellers. Just click it, you know you want to.
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